Piccolo's Journal
by Paladone
Summary: Set a few months before the arrival of Nappa and Vegeta, Piccolo recieves a strange gift from young Gohan: a journal. He begins to jot down his thoughts. Through his pupil and his own musings, he will slowly change from bitter demon to...somewhat bitte


Disclaimer: I own DBZ, FOOLS, DON'T EVEN TRY AND CLAIM I DON'T! RAAAAARRRR!!!!  
  
Notes: Yes, it's been about 20 friggen weeks since I've actually written something, but I've been having  
writers block something awful on my Gohan/Videl story. So what a better thing to do than write a one-shot  
revolving around another great character, Piccolo-Sa! I kinda got this idea from the excellent author,  
Goku-Girl, who wrote "A MONTH in the life of Vegeta." It's when they're training for the Saiyans, back when  
the series didn't revolve around super saiyans and gigantic massive powerups. So, here goes......  
  
(P.S. I did this in notepad, so if the spacing's wierd, make your font size a little smaller. Sorry, I never thought  
I'd really finish this)  
  
  
A Week in the Life of Piccolo  
-----------------------------  
  
  
Sunday: 11:00 PM  
  
  
This is such a worthless waste of time, I don't know why I'm even writing this. Hell, I don't know where he even  
found the damn thing. This "journal." I didn't even know I was literate until now, I guess it's something I  
share with that old fart Kami. Lucky me.  
  
Okay, so the brat gave me this book and a "pencil" that he got from somewhere. "It's a journal!" he says, "you  
can write out your thoughts instead of sitting by the waterfall like a big lump!" He got an eye-lazer for that   
little quip. It's much nicer for my ears when he's asleep. I hope this isn't a waste of time. No, not this  
book, the training. The book is most definitely worthless. I mean, who's actually going to read this? Me?  
Why would I want to read somehting I already know about? Why am I even writing this, dammit! Ah, forget this,   
I'm going to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
Monday: 5:30 AM  
  
  
I hate this book. It's like it's mocking me. How am I supposed to concentrate on  
my technique with this thing here? If I don't write in it, I'm sure the brat'll get whiny again, and lord knows  
I've heard enough whining. Did I just write lord knows? Dammit, how do you erase with this thing.   
  
  
Monday: 8:00 AM  
  
  
I'm letting the brat stretch a little---HEY STOP GRINNING AT ME, OR I'LL GO DOUBLE HARD!-----did I just write that   
out? I burnt his food, so he had to go get some more. Because I said so. He took forever, so we're running late,   
and I destroyed most of his food, since he took so long. Serves him right.  
  
  
Monday: 12:00 PM  
  
  
Taught d****why the HELL IS THIS ERASER SO BAD! ---STOP LAUGHING! I KNOW HOW TO USE IT! *BZZZT*--- That's   
better. Now--oh quit giving me the eyes and go eat some damn berries, that didn't hurt that much--I taught the   
brat a bit more on ki attacks, he tends to dodge way too much. I dunno how father lost   
to my nemisis; Goku's child is so small that it's not really hard to block his attacks. I'm surprised he does   
as well as he does. He'd do better if he wasn't so intent on not hitting me. And being lazy. And playing. And  
trying to distract me with--WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY TURBAN!!!--  
  
  
Monday: 8:00 PM  
  
  
Wah wah wah, cry me a river, or even a waterfall, I am not giving up any of MY fresh water to some dinasour.   
He's giving me the look, but I'm ignoring him. He used MY TURBAN as a BALL, he doesn't get anything from me.  
  
What, you have a problem with that?   
  
I'm not giving a BABY DINO BRAT some of MY HARD-EARNED FRESH WATER! --YOU HEAR ME!?--  
  
  
  
Monday: 8:15 PM  
  
  
Ha, I bet you thought I'd give in, didn't you. Ha ha, stupid journal, you'll not overcome me! For all this   
useless whining and messing around today, he'll be going double time tomorrow, with no lunch. Once he gets back   
from the river, we'll have an extra little session, too. Wonder what he'll think of Mr. Baby Dino then.   
  
I just wrote "Mr. Baby Dino" in this book. And "Ha ha, stupid journal, you'll not overcome me."  
  
I'm going to go meditate now.  
  
  
Tues: 2:00 AM  
  
  
Wonderful, bad dreams abroad, and I can't sleep. The whelp woke me up, more nightmares about Raditz killing his   
idiotic father. I told him that basically I killed him, so he didn't have to be scared of Raditz any more, and he   
cried himself to sleep.   
  
Well, it's the truth, isn't it? Should I tell him that the world is full of bunnies and flowers when it isn't? Fate   
hasn't exactly given me a choicy lot, being constantly overwhelmed by that....GUY...delegated to never-ending training  
as my purpose for existance. Hell, it was only Goku's first death anyway.  
  
I'm not being too hard on him; if this world has a chance, it rests on whether I can whip this little baby dino into  
a T-Rex.  
  
  
  
  
  
Tues: 8:00 AM  
  
  
If he keeps this up, he's never going to get anywhere today. Time to lay down the law, he's gonna know once and for all   
that I'm the Demon King, and he WILL listen to me.  
  
  
----------------------------------------  
  
Piccolo put down the book and glared at the boy, who was sadly studying his little boots. "Will you stop that  
already? Brat, you and I have work to do!"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. Use your anger and draw power from it, if you must, but you WILL fight  
me today!"  
  
".....why'd you kill my daddy? Weren't you fighting with him? On a team?"  
  
The namekian was about ready to explode, "Boy, he wanted me to do it, to save you dammit, so I did! You know he's   
coming back to life! So stop whining and do as he would do! He wouldn't carry on like this!"   
  
Gohan made a tiny sigh, "But you killed him, Mr. Piccolo. You guys still hate eachother. I thought that grudge thing  
didn't exist no more..."  
  
The namekian rose to his full height and glared menacingly, "WELL, IT DOES! I'M CERTAINLY NOT DOING THIS FOR  
YOUR SAKE!......I'm doing this so I have a chance to rule the world after we've finished the other   
two aliens!" He turned his back to the child.  
  
Blink blink. "Really? Why do you want to do that?"  
  
"......because....that's what I'm supposed to do." He'd never given it a thought.  
  
A little confused smile appeared on his face, "Why? You don't seem like that kind of guy."  
  
"Huh, what makes you say that."  
  
"You like being alone."  
  
"But---Until I have the time to seize control of the world, I HAVE to be alone! I'm the DEMON KING!" Why'd it sound  
so hollow?  
  
"...but I thought your name was Mr. Piccolo!"  
  
He clenched his teeth and turned his back, "It's the same thing. And it's MASTER Piccolo from now on!"  
  
"Master Piccolo?" the boy asked curiously? Then he started hopping foot to foot. "Why? You're not really a master!   
Huh? (hop) Huh? (hop)"  
  
"Boy, you're trying my patience!!"  
  
"Yes Mr. Piccolo," he cooed, before spinning around, giggling to himself.  
  
Piccolo whirled around. "I swear that after this battle is over you and your whole family will die!! I've had enough   
of this!"  
  
Gohan lost his momentary energy, stuffed his chin back into his neck, and started staring at his boots again. He asked   
in a small voice, "W---will you really kill me when this is all over?" Tears gleamed in his eyes.  
  
Piccolo tried to growl at him, but there wasn't any energy in it. What use was there in tormenting the child  
anyway, they'd never get anything done. "Let's just drop it, I dunno what I'm going to do yet. Assuming we even live."  
  
"*sniff* Well, all right then. We going to start yet?"  
  
He smirked a little, "Finally done moping? Remember, no lunch today, because of yesterday."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"NO WHINING!"  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
Tues: 2:30 PM  
  
  
Well, he's busy trying to run up the cliff I threw him down, so I pulled out this stupid book again.   
It's an itchy habit. He's doing sort of decent, but still overreaches on his kicks, and he hasn't hit me yet.   
Got relatively close though, he's probably stronger than Goku was when he fought my father. That won't be  
enough though, no breaks for him.  
  
I'm almost sorry that I probably WILL have to kill him and everyone else in the future, but that's my role in life.   
I'm the evil side of Kami. So why the hell am I sorry about anything?  
  
Wow, he's getting up here fast, back to wor--/  
  
  
Tues: 9:00 PM  
  
  
Ok, maybe I went a little hard on him, but that was a cheap shot. Stupid book.   
It'll be hard for him to fight tomorrow with both eyes swollen shut though. Well, he needs to learn to use other  
senses anyway.  
  
If that isn't just the greatest----here comes the animal family again. Why is it five now? Well, since   
the child can't see very well, I geuss I'll have to throw some berries at them or daisies or whatever the hell  
you give them. Piccolo, the Great Demon King, feeding dinosaur families. Precious.   
  
Oh fine, I'll give him the day off tomorrow. Damned if I'm not going crazy, but I think he needs it.  
  
-------------------------------------------------  
  
With a snap the book shut again. "You get a day off to rest and recover from your injuries, I need at least one eye  
before we can continue."  
  
Gohan's mouth popped open, "Wh-what? Am I hearing voices in my head now? I thought you just said I could take a   
day off, Mr. Piccolo!"  
  
"*growl* Don't test my patience, boy. I want no disruptions tomorrow!"  
  
"....are you lying?!"  
  
For some reason, this touched a rather sensitive nerve. "I DO NOT LIE!!! I'D KILL YOU ALL IN A FLASH, BUT I DON'T   
LIE!"  
  
Gohan was shocked into silence...but only for a moment. "But didn't you say you would most def'nitely-without-a-doubt   
beat my daddy at the last Tenka--k-chi Ba--Budokai tournament?"  
  
"......I wasn't LYING, I thought I could. Your father hid a great deal of stamina from me."  
  
"Oh....OKAY!" he piped cheerfully.  
  
"Glad you see it my way. Good night."  
  
Gohan, however, wanted to barter a bit. "Can we do some other things?"  
  
"Like what." said Piccolo in a neutral tone of voice.  
  
"Oh I dunno," he said a bit too casually, "Fishing maybe, games, tag? I haven't played tag in months!"  
  
Perhaps because he was unusually tired, the significance of the question escaped him. "All right, fine. FINE.   
Sleep now, you can lie by the fire."  
  
"Hey, wait a second! I still want a promise!"   
  
"Just GO TO SLEEP," Piccolo almost whined.  
  
"No promise, no sleep!" Gohan crossed his arms and stuck his nose up high in the air.  
  
Piccolo sighed grumpily and opened his eyes, "I promise on my honor as a warrior that you will get your day   
off tomorrow, and I'll do whatever. Good NIGHT."  
  
A great big heart-shattering little smile floated back at him, though the swollen eyes took a bit of the charm out   
of it. "Thank you!"  
  
"*closes eyes* Right, now then-"  
  
"I'll definitely make it up for you!"  
  
"Yeah, ok. Shut up now."  
  
"I'll-!"  
  
"One more word and we'll do four days of river-training!"  
  
Gohan immediately flopped on his back and started making big pretend snores. Piccolo grunted at the childish antics,   
and laid his head forward to nod off, one hand loosely clutching the journal.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
Wed: 4:49 AM  
  
  
This was an extremely stupid idea. "HEY, WHY DON'T WE GO LOOK AT THE SUNRISE, DOESN'T IT LOOK PRETTYFUL?!" If   
I want prettyful colors, I'll go blow up some trees. Or a few birds.   
  
Oh yeah, and his eyes seemed to magically heal overnight, making the whole day a waste of time.  
And I can't slight my honor either, not even for a little brat. I seemed to inherit some moral code seperate from  
both Kami's and my father's. I can easily kill an entire stadium full of people, but only if it serves a purpose, I   
can't do it for the hell of it like Daimou could. In this situation, I can beat a whelp continuously, make his life   
miserable, but I couldn't break a vow to him, no matter how stupid. Aren't I supposed to be a copy of my sire?  
  
Probably not, because I'm learning from my mistakes, and he never did. Next time I fight Goku, I'm not going to lose   
my head and get so damn careless. But what the hell am I going to do with this boy?  
  
  
Wed: 11:30 AM  
  
  
I CAN'T MEDITATE. IT IS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE. THERE ARE 37 ORPHANED ANIMALS SITTING AROUND THE FIREPLACE! FOR   
THE LOVE OF ALL---  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"You-promised, you-promised, nyah nyah nyah!" came the gleeful sing-song again.  
  
Piccolo looked up from his book, accidentally snapping the pencil point. "GOD DAMN THIS PIECE OF CRAP! Boy, take your   
animal herd and GO AWAY!" He tried to regain his composure before things started to die, "I gave you the day off."  
  
"You said you'd play with me! Until you do they're going to sit here forever!"  
  
"I'll blow them all up!"  
  
But the little boy was far more persistent than he had thought. "Yeah right! I'll just go get the other 9453 animals   
I've befriended! You're too practi-tical to spend all day killing them!"  
  
So that's what he was. Too Practi-tical. The child didn't know how right he was. He growled, "It's not happening boy!   
The son of the Demon King will not honor a worthless deal like this..."   
  
"Please?"  
  
"No. I'm not going to waste time with this idiocy! Go and wander in the woods for a while. ...damn whelp."  
  
Gohan then pulled out the dreaded Watery-Bambi-Eyes-That-Warn-Of-An-Impending-Explosion-Of-Tears-And-Sadness Eyes,   
"PLEEEEAAASSSEEEEE???"  
  
"NO."  
  
The boy immediately fell on the ground and started bawling at the top of his lungs.   
  
"Aaaagggh, no, not more of this! ARGH, ALL RIGHT, stop whining! Dammit, I'll go fishying, STOP WAILING, GODS, MY   
EARS!"  
  
"WAAAAAAAH--OK!" Gohan hopped back up to his feet, all smiles and energy.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
Wed: 12:30 PM  
  
  
I'm fishying. Absolutely splendid. I cannot think of one thing I've done in life that is more boring and  
wasteful than this 'game', but the boy gets into it like nothing I've seen. I'm able to write this because  
my "Fishying Prod" hasn't moved in thirty minutes. I have a hook on it, dammit, but I'm not going to actually dig  
up a grimy little worm for something this stupid and boring.   
  
I was able to pull all the fish out of the water in 10 seconds without the "Fishying prod", but HE calls it "CHEATING".   
What rubbish.   
  
Oh wait, the prod's twitching...I think, yup, let me put this down.  
  
  
Wed: 12:32 PM  
  
  
I found a shoe attatched to my hook. I probably shouldn't have thrown it so hard at the boy though. He hasn't   
stopped whimpering yet. I HATE WHIMPERING.   
  
  
Wed: 2:30 PM  
  
  
Well, I managed to hammer a deal through sheer stubbornesss. I'd play this "tag" only if it was "full contact."   
Thus, the hour or so was not a total waste, though the game ended rather abruptly when I caught him and threw him into a   
giant sycamore. I never liked the damn thing anyway. What surprised me a great deal was how much faster he seemed   
to be when he thought it was a game. I actually had a great deal of trouble seeing him at times.   
  
Why is this? Why is he a better fighter, or at least a faster one, when he isn't fighting? He must be too young  
still. How does anyone teach somebody like this?  
  
  
Wed: 9:00 PM  
  
  
Well, after several more attempted games that ended in violent explosions, the boy finally started to get tired.   
Probably because of that giant lump on his head from the "hide and seek" game, when I blew up the landscape to flush him   
out. Still, I haven't seen him smile this much ever, which is unusual considering he's just as injured today, or more so,   
than during the average round of training. I geuss I haven't quite beaten the child out of him yet.   
  
It's a strange sort of feeling, but I almost....um....-I think regret is the word-, what I'm about to put him through.  
But hell, I lived through it, and I nearly killed myself training for the 23rd Budokai. He'll have to as well. He  
has much more power than this, but I can't make him hate me to fuel his anger! I must be out of my mind, 'playing'  
like this....Still...  
  
I dunno. I'm going to sleep.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
Piccolo closed the book and laid it beside him, and closed his eyes for meditation. Conflicting thoughts disturbed   
his sleep, however, as well as an annoying whimpering noise coming from the far side of the fire.  
  
He sighed tiredly and looked down at the dirty orange ball attempting to huddle under a large leaf. "What now?"   
The whimpering continued unabated. Great, he thought, more bad dreams. Piccolo grunted and walked over to kick   
him awake.  
  
The whimpers turned to angry snarls, and then there was an absolutely silent blinding light. Piccolo felt himself   
float up into the air, fast and far over the course of a second and a hundred years, in a flash   
of slow motion. Followed by a rather painful clash into a nearby cliff face, and a terrible, thunderous explosion.  
  
"A-arrgh.." The Namekian clawed his way out of the debris after feeling returned to the lower half of his body. Then   
he stared in awe.  
  
The small valley they'd camped in, the entire valley, was now devoid of bushes, rocks, and for that matter, the steep  
hill with the apple tree on top. Furthermore, a now exceptionally muddy river had been violently jerked off course   
and had begun to flow past the campfire, taking small animals and trees with it. And, lying pitifully and hilariously  
in a crater at the center of the contained apocalypse, there was a tiny, curled up little boy, snoring ever so slightly.   
  
Okay, thought Piccolo. All right. I'm just going to go back to my spot, and I will speak nothing of this.   
Tomorrow, he's getting a BEATING. Piccolo liked the ring that word had. Beating. With a TING. He'd LIKED   
that waterfall dammit! But as he reached what was left of the campsite, he heard the terrifying sound again,   
the whimpering. Flinching violently, he cursed under his breath.   
  
Of course, what stupidity, he's cold. Well, he can stay cold, Piccolo thought darkly, rubbing the side of his face to   
painfully freshen his resolve.  
  
But the whimpers both scared him, and irritated some unusual sense under his familiar ones, always filed under   
"calmness", "confidence", "anger", and "hurt". This was some unusual drawer in his mental desk, one of those hidden   
drawers under the table that are either filled with secrets of some importance or (more often, sadly) are never used.   
Whatever it was, it was troubling him.   
  
He grunted spitefully to himself, but snapped his fingers and willed a small, white blanket into existance. Then,   
drifiting almost comically slowly, he dropped the blanket on Gohan as if he were a small, explosive nuclear landmine,  
which wasn't too far from the truth. The whimpering, as if by magic, ceased, and was replaced by a contented smile  
as the small boy unconsciously curled himself more comfortably into it.  
  
Piccolo, heaving a small sigh of relief, returned to his premeditated meditation spot, feeling strangely at peace  
with himself. "I'm going mad," he grumbled half-heartedly, but weariness soon overtook even him.  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Hmmm, I put a lot more effort into this than I first thought, I never really like Piccolo much up until now....  
Well, anyhow, thanks for reading, I'll end up finishing this someday (soon, maybe). 


End file.
